tick tock
the plot
drips & drops
as too much doubt hits the clock
and we remember the
pick-up truck rounding the block
and the thoughts of
hate clots
brainwaves ready to deliver
cruel ironic shocks
as this scene is hatched
our firm views become botched
as the one many surely hated
now faces what we’re ultimately trying to stop
especially when one deserves saving
now we trapped in a helluva box
while we speak for the innocent we deem
we speak for the guilty, too, so it seems
our pleas for mercy strongly streams
into the man that grinned when James was bleeding
our torture becomes a theme
when we just can’t win
Troy, we lost once again
no repents behind this scene
2 murders mixed together
though like oil & water separated
their paths merged in this sick vendetta
it seems a blueprint to confuse our mind
our morals crossed by a thin line
between love & hate
we debate these 2 men’s fate
but a divided house is a conquered faith
so on nine-two-one
we lose both ways
getting what we want
then losing a stay
through our diluted hearts we lose the way
does lady Justice get the last say
as she laughs in our wretched state
from this tormentor
the death penalty!


(In Memory of Troy Davis, James Byrd and ironically Lawrence Brewer)

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